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tEf)e CaU of ^angas 
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?Bp Csitfjer ilarp Clarfe 



tEfje Call of Wimxaan 



Surfeited here with beauty, and the 

sensuous-sweet perfume 
Borne in from a thousand gardens and 

orchards of orange bloom: 
Aw^ed by the silent mountains, stunned by 

the breakers' roar — 
The restless ocean pounding and tugging 

away at the shore — 
I lie on the w^arm sand beach and hear, 

above the cry of the sea, 
The voice of the prairie, calling, calling me. 

Sweeter to me than the salt sea spray, the 

fragrance of summer rains: 
Nearer my heart than these mighty hills are 

the w^indswept Kansas plains : 
Dearer the sight of a shy, w^ild rose by the 

roadside's dusty way 
Than all the splendor of poppy-fields, 

ablaze in the sun of May. 
Gay as the bold poinsettia is, and the 

burden of pepper trees, 
The sunflower, tawny and g-^ilcj and brown, 

is richer to me, than thesp'' 



Cfje Call of llan{(a£"Contmueb 



And rising ever above the song of the 

hoarse, insistent sea. 
The voice of the prairie, calUng, calling me. 

Kansas, beloved Mother, today in an aHen 

land. 
Yours is the name I have idly traced with 

a bit of v/ood in the sand : 
The name that, flung from a scornful lip. 

will make the hot blood start : 
The name that is graven, hard and deep, 

on the core of my loyal heart. 
O higher, clearer and stronger yet, than the 

boom of the savage sea. 
The voice of the prairie, calling, calling me. 



^f)e inan Mti)i\\b tfje ^un 



There are many to sing of the noble deeds 

of Kansas' favorite sons: 
The men who stood in the early days so 

manfully by their guns. 
Who shed their blood at the Nation's call 

for the martyr-state's release, 
And led her out of the depths of war and 

into the w^ays of peace. 
1 honor them all ; but I honor, too, the 

Infinite Wisdom's plan 
Of putting a man behind the gun, and a 

woman behind the man! 
The men of the days of Old John Brown--- 

Lord love them, every one ! — 
Each is a hero in Kansas' eyes, and each 

is a favorite son. 
But I venture to say that you'd find if you got 

right down to the truth of things 
They were mostly held to their duty's post 

by a couple of apron strings ! 
For w^ho could waver, or who could fail in 

that struggle in Freedom's name 
When woman's courage and woman's faith 

were backing him in the game? 



5 Ci)t jHan jBeftinb tf)e @un-Conttnncb_ 

Our dear fore-mothers ! who Uved and loved 

in the days when the State was young. 
(And many have gone to their last long rest, 

unhonored, unknown, unsung) 
For Woman rose to the needs of the hour 

when the dear-bought peace was won. 
And backed up the man at the plough as 

well as she'd backed up the man at 
the gun ! 
He gave his strength for the land's increase, 

his voice to the new State's good. 
But back of his every word and deed some 

valiant woman stood. 

There are men at the front in our State 

today, and back of each one stands 
Some dauntless woman with loving heart 

and ready and willing hands. 
I do not ask for her, Equal Rights, nor a 

voice at your polls as yet, 
( For Heaven knows 1 am anything but a 

rampant suffragette ! ) 
But give her a place in your Halls of Fame, 

along with your honored ones ; 



Cf)e i¥lan |@efiinti t^e #unHConttnueD 



Let Kansas' favorite daughters rank as high 

as her favorite sons. 
I pledge you loyally, heart and hand, as 

only a Kansan can. 
A toast: 

To the Man who is at the front — - and 
the Woman behind the Man! 



?Ef)e iHotfjcr 



Dear Lord, there is so much to do in one 

brief, busy day: 
The little clothes to wash and iron, and 

mend and put away ; 
The littered toys to gather up, the little beds 

to make; 
And little griefs to soothe away from little 

hearts that ache. 
The little bodies to be kept, for Thy sake, 

clean and sweet. 
As temples for the dwelling of the Christly 

spirit meet. 
And Mary Mother one time knew the 

blessedness of this : 
The little feet to wash at night, the little 

lips to kiss. 

Forgive me, Lord, if that I seem neglectful 

of Thy work. 
It is not that my heart is hard, it is not that 

I shirk. 
But that my heart and hands are full with 

these, my little ones. 



)c ifllotfier-Continueb 



My little daughters, fair and sweet, my 

sturdy little sons. 
Once I rejoiced in serving Thee, and only 

Thee alway ; 
And now sometimes I am so tired I cannot 

even pray. 
But I draw near at night to Him whose 

mother knew the bliss 
Of tender, little feet to wash, and little lips 

to kiss. 



9 Mv 3©car 

If I hadn't had you, my dear. 

My Dear, 
In the years that we've been together, 
With your happy tongue and your jest 
and song, 
No matter how gray the weather; 
If I hadn't had you when my hope was 
low. 
To comfort and tease and love me, 
I'd have seen no green in the grass below. 

No blue in the sky above me. 
And the world had been empty and sad 

and drear, 
if i hadn't had you, my dear. 

My Dear. 

If 1 didn't have you, my dear, 

My Dear, 
With the glamour of youth about you. 
When the day's work drags and my courage 

flags, 
Why, what should 1 do without you ? 
If I didn't have you when the day is long 
And the long, long night comes after; 



10 iflp Bear-Conttnueb 



If I didn't have you when the world goes 
wrong, 
To set it aright with laughter, 
There'd be small need of my tarrying here. 
If I didn't have you, my dear, 

My Dear. 



1 1 Jf orcfeobing 

A wild rose by the wayside path. 

Upheld her head in simple pride; 
A passing wind, in sudden wrath, 

Outflung her petals far and wide. 
And, shuddering, I turned aside: 

Is some dread Presence, then, so near ? 
For through the stillness something cried : 

"Tomorrow you may not be here!" 
At dawn I heard a wild lark fling 

His soul out in a single strain. 
As if his gladness in the Spring 

His little heart could not restrain. 
Now, on the grass a crimson stain— 

The song hath cost the singer dear--- 

And in my heart the old refrain: 

"Tomorrow^, you may not be here!" 
* * * 

Forgive me if I cannot speak 
Of matters trivial and light; 

For O, my heart and lips are weak. 
And I am filled with strange affright: 

Dear, if I read the sign aright. 

There is some reason for the fear; 

So fold me, hold me close tonight- 
Tomorrow 1 may not be here. 



12 Conquering 

This, that my hand must never touch ; 

This, that my eyes must never see ; 
This, that my heart has craved so much ; 

This, that was never meant for me ; 
I will not say, that the world may hear: 

"I have not longed for it, no, not I!" 
I will say: " Though lovely and fair and dear, 

It is mine to conquer, and put it by." 

Now, mine the sacrifice, mine the pain. 

And the bitterness, till the struggle cease. 
Then, mine the glory and mine the gain. 

And mine the triumph, and mine the 
peace. 
O hand, be steady! O heart, be strong! 

* Tis not for this we shall faint and die ! 
Though tempted sorely, and tempted long. 

It is ours to conquer, and put it by. 
****** 

"But what of thy dearest?" saith One 
to me, 
(In the Time to be, when the years are 
done) 



13 Conquering-ContinueJ) 

"The earth-thing, dearly beloved of thee--- 
Thy heart's one treasure— or hath it 
one ?'* 
O white the lips that have kissed the rod. 
But strong the heart that shall make 
reply : 
*' I am what I am by the grace of God 
And the strength that conquered, and 
put it by." 



14 tETIjc Clober anb tfje ^bp 

O blest is he whose sorrow 

Hath lasted but a night! 
Thrice blest he whose tomorrow 

Daw^ns ever fair and bright! 
Yet who, the wide world over. 

Could choose to sit and sigh? 
With underneath, the clover. 

And overhead, the sky. 
Then make no friends with trouble, 

And have no peace with gloom ; 
For surely Joy is double 

When all the Earth's a-bloom! 
Look up! There bends above you 

The tender, shelt'ring sky. 
Look down! And there, to love you, 

The clover, sweet and shy. 
Last night the w^ind fell sobbing 

Against my w^indow pane. 
And like my heart's dull throbbing 

There beat the mournful rain. 
But now the storm is over 

There's none so blithe as I, 
With underneath, the clover. 

And overhead, the sky. 



15 Mv VsAtnXim 

When I was just a tiny, blue ginghamed. 

pig-tailed miss 
My young affections centered on such a 

day as This. 
I fed my soul on flowery verse and valen- 

tine-y frills. 
And bandy-legged Cupids gave me most 

delightful thrills. 
But I've outgrown such childishness— no 

frills and thrills in mine! 
1 want a million dollars to be my Valentine. 
For these were fleeting fancies, and with 

my tender teens 
My tastes grew more expensive, though I 

kept within my means. 
1 still was keen on frills and thrills, but with 

my lengthened frocks 
1 wanted the hand-painted kind, all done 

up in a box. 
But even for these dear delights to-day I 

do not pine: 
1 want a million dollars to be my Valentine. 

And in my early twenties I, yet mindful of 
the day. 



16 Mv Valtntim '€ontinuttt 



Demanded tokens in a still more merce- 

nary way. 
A five-pound box of chocolates would 

really give me thrills. 
Or Beauties at a dollar per, in florist's 

paper frills. 
But these no longer stir my blood to 

ecstasy divine : 
1 want a million dollars to be my Valentine. 

Romance is dead in me to-day, and I am 
thirty-three. 

No loves and doves, no hearts and darts, 
no lacy frills for me! 

No five-pound box of chocolates, no roses 
rare and red— 

What little heart I had has formed a mer- 
ger with my head. 

The only thing 1 think of that would thrill 
me through and through 

And satisfy my yearnings is— a copper- 
mine or two. 

O Postman, bring a railroad, or a trans- 
Atlantic line. 

Or just a million dollars to be my Valentine ! 



Copyrighted 1910 by Esther Mary Clark ; printed 
and published by Chas. C. Seewir at The 
Windmill Press, in Lawrence. Kansas. 



1..I 16 ^9^«> 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
lUl IS ISM 



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